Thank you, universe!
by SearchingForDistractions
Summary: Jim goes into a slump after Sherlock's death and Sebastian avoids getting killed in the process. Inspired by "Alone On the Water" which is read from John's perspective - I decided to make a story from Jim's perspective. The only thing that even indicates that this was inspired by "Alone On the Water", though, is that Sherlock did die from a brain tumour.


((A/N: Unofficial-semi-sequel/inspired by/spin-off of the fanfiction "Alone On the Water".  
I have not written "Alone On the Water", I own nothing (except for this story), yada yada yada. My first fic.))

He mourned. Sure he did. In his own way.

He was slumped in one of the armchairs in the apartment, wearing ordinary jeans and a white, wrinkled shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way up. He couldn't be bothered.

He was looking out the window, elbow on the armrest for support, hand closed and knuckles resting against his temple. His eyes were dead and mouth slightly agape as he watched the city go by outside the window.

_Look at the clouds... the streets... the people... the trees..._

_Still moving... despite everything._

_'Brain tumour'_...What a pointless thing to die for_. _What a ridiculous thing to die for.

_Just his luck, _Jim thought to himself as he stared off into the sky.

He had finally found something interesting. Something to keep him here, just for a little while longer. But nooo,_** "Let's plant a little seed here that will grow and grow and slowly **__**eat**__** him from the **__**inside**__**!"**_

Oops.

And now he was dead.

It wasn't supposed to go this way. Not at all. He had such great plans for them... had it alll figured out...

And now... _he_ had to die _too! _What was he supposed to do now? Just carry on as usual?

_Thank you, universe!_

He had been sitting like that for a while. Had to be a few hours, at least. Just _**hating. **_Hating _**everything. **_How_** dare **_it... He had had plans. How dare it, whatever "it" was, interrupt. This was _their_ game. Nothing else was supposed to get in the way, nothing else was supposed to interfere-

"Hey, boss, I-" Sebastian sauntered through the door, bag thrown over his shoulder, blonde, wet hair veiling half of his face as he ducked his head and drew up his shoulders automatically, like he always did when he was lighting a cigarette, his eyes watching the flame of the lighter and hand shielding it from any breath of wind.

"**Get out!**" Jim stood up sharply, the chair legs screeching against the wooden floor. His eyes seemed even darker than usual, and the crazy behind them much more visible. "_**Get out!**_"

Sebastian hadn't heard about Holmes yet, and Jim hadn't felt like telling him, so he'd sent him off to a job in Malaysia to get to be alone. But here he was, now.

He didn't know about Holmes, but he did know how to handle Jim. If he acted like this, there was no talking involved, just _get the hell out of there before he kills you._

Sebastian froze for just a second, eyes widening slightly, before his hands began to scramble to shove the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket as he realized the hurry he was in.

_"Shit..." _Sebastian mumbled in response and quickly held out his hands, palms facing down, as a gesture to try and calm the other – more by reflex than thinking that it would actually _matter – _he began to slowly move away.  
_  
_"Just... get out!" Jim yelled once more, eyes closed and rubbing his temples with a frown on his face.

Sebastian slowly backed away and opened the door behind him, never releasing the other man with his eyes, going out the same way he had come. He knew these kind of days. Jim would have them from time to time. It was rare, though. It only happened when something was really... _really _bad.

There was nothing you could do but wait it out.

Sebastian leaned against the wooden door which he had just entered and then escaped through within a matter of seconds. _Has to be a record_, he thought to himself as he finally lit his cigarette and took a drag from it, exhaling it again and watching the grey smoke rise and vanish against the grey walls of the cold, impersonal and sterile hallway as he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his wet jacket.

"Do you mind if I come over? SM"

"Yeah, I know she is. I'll just take the couch. SM"

"Nothing. SM"

"Mate, it's fine. SM"

"...I just need somewhere to stay for a while. SM"


End file.
